LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1819, 19 December 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

TRUMBULL’S WAR OFFICE, {Concluded.) ‘ Truly, that would almost go without the saying of it, your Excellency.’ And tl o Count with much grace took Mistress Prudence’s browa but shapely hand and bent over it. ‘ Did I not have the pleasure of leading the maidjat the reel in the tavern dining room V he asked, * Indeed you did, sir,’ replied Mistress Prudence, curtsying. ‘ But, Mr Trumbnll, will you tell me what Mr Duplan, the tall French soldier, has done, and what is to bo his punishment ?’ The Governor, who had taken advantage of the colloquy between the maid and the Count to draw on his outer garment of plain brown homespun—for the room was sultry and he had removed it—turned with a look of surprise. ‘ I know nothing of any French soldier, Mistress ;Prudenoe, and, prithee, why should you visit me on such a night as this for such a matter?’ ho said. ‘ Because he is a good man and a brave soldier, and because he has done nothing to merit punishment, ’ ‘ But why does Mistress Prudence become his intercessor, eh ? What does the maid mean, for I see that she is greatly exercised, and I know her to be not disturbed by trifles ’ The Count de Koohambrau was very grave. Ho looked at the maid strangely but not suspiciously. At length ha said : ‘ He is a deserter; there is much of mystery about him, but of all the mysteries there is none so very strange as this that has now come to my ears, Tell me,’ and he took the girl’s hand, ‘what reason is there that yon should thus intercede ?’ ‘I cannot tell you that now, sir,’ replied the mistress, a little demurely, * it is a good one.’ Here the Count de Eochambeau looked very grave, but the Governor at onoo said : ‘ I’d plight my honor, sir, the girl tells the truth. Tell me, Misstresa Prudence, how yon came to know this soldier ?’ * I have often seeu him at the oven oyer there, and in passing have chatted with him, as have other maidens, for he speaks the English tongue as well as you or I.’ ‘ Was that entirely seemly ?’ said the Count gravely. Mistress Prudence looked at the tall, gracious Frenchman wonderingly for an instant, and then, slowly and instinctively catching his meaning, sa’d, while her gray eyes sparkled and the blood mounted to her cheeks : ‘There are none but brave and true women in Lebanon, sir.’ The Count bowed low, with his hand oyer his heart, and humbly begged the maid’s forgiveness, •At the oven, yon say,’ continued the Governorsurely there could be no harm in that, for is not the oven on the common, in rear of the meeting house ?’ The brick oven still remains on the common, sadly, broken in and gone to decay, but there, nevertheless. ‘ I came to ask you to cause him to be released, on my word that he has done nothing wrong- It is unseemly to shut such a man as a prisoner for the space of one hour. ’ The Governor and the Count exchanged glances, and the quick eye of Mistress Prudence raw it. With the most dignified courtesy to the Count she turned her back upon him, and going to the Governor said, ‘ Mr Trnmbnll, you knew me when I was a child, before this war. Did yon not see me lead the other maids to the sohoolhouse, when the messenger from Lexington to Norwich stopped to tell us that blood had been shed, and did I not suggest to the maids that wo even take our petticoats to make the implements of war with ? Do you remember my ride to Hartford, alone through the forests, that I might carry to you the special despatches that were waiting for you here from Gen. Washington ? ’ ‘ In truth I remember all this, and to your credit.’ ‘ Then have I not the right to ask a slight favour ? ’ ‘ But, Mistress Prudence, I cannot do what you would seek. My authority ex tends not to the battalion of the Count de Rochambeiu.’ ‘ But you can plead with him.’ ‘ X see, Mistress Prudence, you little ocmprehend these matters, and in truth I wot my pleadings would not avail the half yours would.’ The Count listened gravely to all this. Suddenly ho said but with infinite respect, ‘ Tell mo, do you love this man ? ’ ‘ What has that to do with it?’ she answered, straightening us, and her grey eyes flashed indignation ‘ If he deserves punishment I might lore him and still suffer him to be punished. Bat he does not I beg you to release him, for ho has done nothing wrong.’ The Count de Eoohambeau said nothing. ‘ Will you not release him ?’ she pleaded tenderly, placing her {hand on the Count do

Roohambeau’s arm. He turned his face away, but shook hia head. ‘ Will yon not beg for me ? ’ This to the Governor, who stood with one hand on his oaken desk and looking very stern, as much as to aay * I like this not at all,’ ‘I cannot, Mistress Prudence.’ * I know not what his punishment may be. It is a disgrace |to have been arrested. But I have hero’—and she suddenly drew from the folds of her dress a thin packet of paper —‘that which he gave me to-night, saying were he punished I might deliver them to Count de Rochambeau. They are of great importance, sir, for they not only tell who Francois Dnplan is, but certain other hints of value.’ ‘ Let me see them child, ’ said the Count, starting forward, * Not till you promise, and 1 will tell you, furthermore, that on your written order for his release I will kiss you as I might my father.’ ‘Verily,’ said the Cuunt, ‘those are but other words, the meaning of which is the affirmative answer to the question I put to you. It is not so here, as Mr Trumbull well knows.’ ‘ You are a brave maid,’ said the Count da llochambeau, ‘ and you shall have your wish. Now let me have the papers.’ With this Mislrets Prudence rushed from the room, the Governor and Count staring at each other in amazement. Presently she returned, looking demure, shy, and wondrous pretty. * I have put the papers where they are safe. sir. To-morrow, when I see Mr Duplan and ho tells me that he is relieved from duress and disgrace, I will place them in your hands.’ The Count flushed; he bit his lips at length said : * Then, Mistress Prudence dare not trust to my honor ?' ‘ Yes, yes,’ she said, going to him prettily ; ‘ but methiuks I will pneisb you for your impertinence, sir. You seek the papers greatly, and you must restrain your curiosity over night as a punishment for the question you put to me. Nevertheless, I will partially requite yon. ’ and with that when he bent over she hissed him on his forehead. Then the Count, sat at the Governor’s desk and wrote an order pardoning Francois Dnplan, or rather dismissing the charge as unfounded, thereby quieting his conscience regarding the peremptory order of death to deserters and gratifying hia wishes. ‘ Give this,’ he said, ‘ to your escort and charge him to deliver it to the sergeant on bis return to the camp. When she went away neither the Governor nor the Count proposed to make any search for the papers. The despatch bearers, in response to the Governor’s inquiry, said that the maiden went up among the rafters. Comrade Jacques showed Mistress Prudence to her father’s door by the light of his lantern, and nothing loth, went in. The mistress herself mixed him a punch of tremendous strength, which he drank in her honor. Then Squire Strong insisted on another, and the Minister suggested that they drink to the cause, so that by the time Comrade Jacques was ready to go back to the camp ho must have had more thin a pint of Medford rum to warm him. The cold night air from without and the heated rum from within sent his brain at once into a whirl, and aa hour after the sentinel took him to his tent in a state of the wildest intoxication, in which he constantly sang the praises of Mistress Prudence. They found on him at noon on the next day the Count de Rochambeau’s remission of the sentence of death. At sunrise the sergeant and six weeping comrades, drawn by lot, led Duplan through the snow, across the highway, nearly opposite the old mill. Ho knelt in the snow on the bank, and begged them to stand not more than five paces away. He calmly repeated a prayer, and then turning to bis comrades, said in a clear voice, ‘ Aim at my heart,’ and dropped the handkerchief. He fell over in the snow, and by noon was buried where he fell. Hia comrades took from a stone wall a dozen or more boulders and placed them in a pile over the grave. (The little heap may be seen to this day.) At noon, as the sun came out, Mrs Prudence appeared at the oven on the green. She asked for Mr Duplan, and the Frenchman smiled and pointed to the earth. Even then she did not understand. Looking across the common she saw the Count de llochambeau entering tho War Office, and to him she at once went. * Where is Mr Duplan ? ’ ‘ln bis grave, Mrs Prudence.’ She paled, bat did not faint. She stood like a rock. She saw that the Count de Rochambeau was not jesting. The Count himself looked sadly at her, and was about to tell her of the drunken Jacques, msdo drunk by the mistress’s own attentions, bat she stopped him. ‘You are a murderer, ’ she said. ‘Yon have killed a brave and innocent man without cause. You have killed me. You trifled with me last night. You care for women only to play with their feelings. I hate you and all your*. Oh, why did yon kill him, sir ? Ha was a good man and a noble man. Oh, you are all the servants of Satan. War. Is this war? Then I hate it. Better had there been no war Yes, better have been slaves of the throne. But I tell you, sir, you will never know whom you murdered. If the constant thought that you may have killed one equally gentle with yourself may be a punishment, I hope that it will over rankle in your breast. I have concealed the papers. He asked me to keep them forever in case he was not released. They are safely bidden. You will not find them unless you pull the Governor’s office down; perhaps not then ; and it will not come down while you are alive 1’ Then she fainted, and an hour after they carried her home in a delirium. In the Spring, when the snow was gone, they found a flower or two planted aronud the boulders over Duplan’s grave. No one ever saw any person plant them. But every one knew that Mistress Prudence had been there. Before tho next spring she was laid away in the old cemetery, near the Trumbull tomb (you may see the slab over the grave to this day), and she never revealed the mystery. Search was often made for the papers without success, but there is no one who has heard the story who does not believe they are hidden in the War Office.